


The Walk up

by orangetree



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 03:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20521256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangetree/pseuds/orangetree
Summary: Craig was spread out on their bed, in their dark green sheets. His soft tan skin contrasting with the dark cotton. Tweek was kissing down the side of his throat, down to the jutting collarbones. He sunk his teeth into them, Craig was as bruised as the banana no one wanted at the supermarket. His skin littered with Tweek’s marks. His throat, collarbones and shoulders, all of them bore bruises. He wanted everyone to know who Craig Tucker belonged to. Even as he went to Stanford and MIT for grad school and then the fucking moon, he would be Tweek’s.





	The Walk up

They had so little time left until Craig left him for Stanford. They had to soak up every moment together, every bit of time they could be kissing and fucking and burying his nose into Craig’s sweet herby scented hair. Every moment they were apart, Craig could be on his dick, riding him like there was no tomorrow, because in reality, there were so few tomorrows left.

His parents wanted to reward him for staying here and working on the coffee shop. For deciding he wasn’t going to forge his own way in the world and would stay here, in this cozy little mountain town and working in his parents’ coffee shop. There was an apartment above the shop.It was this little walk up, this little studio apartment that had a big room and a bathroom and a tiny kitchen. It smelled like coffee and he could hear the clang of the shop underneath his feet. He worked on making it his own. He put up his Cure posters and the green and white striped duvet on his murphy bed. Craig would bring him over star maps and succulents and a little green woven rug. Craig would stay there with him, playing house like two kids so afraid of what the future held but yearning for the next stage. He wanted to let Craig go and achieve his dreams, but the thought of being here alone, it killed him.

“This is our place.” He had his forehead resting on Craig’s, staring into his big dark fuck me eyes and stroking over his soft freckled cheek. “I'm going to make the shop somewhere you’re proud to come home to.” He promised him. Craig would just look up at him with such love and trust in those eyes, he was done. Tweek Tweak would have done anything for this boy. Slain a dragon, face President Garrison, punch an old lady in the tits. Anything to see Craig Tucker look at him like he was the only one on earth.

Craig was spread out on their bed, in their dark green sheets. His soft tan skin contrasting with the dark cotton. Tweek was kissing down the side of his throat, down to the jutting collarbones. He sunk his teeth into them, Craig was as bruised as the banana no one wanted at the supermarket. His skin littered with Tweek’s marks. His throat, collarbones and shoulders, all of them bore bruises. He wanted everyone to know who Craig Tucker belonged to. Even as he went to Stanford and MIT for grad school and then the fucking moon, he would be Tweek’s.

He felt soft little hands in his wild blond hair, nimble slim fingers stroking through his hair like it was something soft. The same motion he did when he pet Stripe’s fur, gentle little movements. He was making soft little whimpering noises as Tweek thrust his clothed hips against Craig’s. The needy roll of those bony hips against his, he fit perfectly between Craig’s spread legs. His hands were under Craig’s soft navy blue cashmere sweater. It was too big, falling off a freckled shoulder and showing off a bruised collarbone. He would bury his face in the junction between Craig’s throat and shoulder, sucking another bruise there.

“Its feels so good.” Craig sighed softly, arching his hips against his, his back in almost perfect semi circle. Tweek’s fingers brushed over his rib cage, the little indents there. He was sliding his sweater off, greedy for any glimpse of golden tan skin. Greedy for the feel of soft skin under his finger tips, under his mouth. Craig made him crazy, made him dizzy with desire. He wanted him all the time, he couldn’t go a moment without touching him, kissing him, fantasizing about him. When he was away at his internship, he would imagine bending Craig over the counter at Tweek Bros, Craig’s needy moans, the frantic thrusting of his hips. He would come over his hand in record time and lay there, wishing for it to be true. 

But he didn’t need a fantasy now, this was real. This was Craig in his bed, reaching for his flannel shirt, pulling it down over his broad shoulders. He was tall and broad and had the faintest outline of abs. He was so proud of this, Tweek Tweak went from this shaking, odd little kid afraid of everything to this person. This man whose hands still slightly shook, but he knew what he wanted. He wanted this beautiful boy in his bed, he wanted to kiss and hold and fuck him until the end of time. Until they were both flung from this earthly plane, he wanted this beautiful boy in his arms.

He slid his sweater off his skinny frame, his hands running down slim lovely arms and holding his wrists down on the mattress. He loved that, he would hear Craig let out a soft moan being dominated like this. He wrapped his long legs around Tweek’s waist, pulling him even closer. 

“I need you.” He whimpered in his ear, he was the only one allowed to see him like this. Craig Tucker was calm, he never showed much emotion, things sucked sometimes, but they would pass. That was his thing, don’t let people see you sweat, you could handle those AP tests and the chair auditions and college applications. Craig didn’t sweat, Craig didn’t crack, Craig didn’t show weakness. He was vulnerable in front of Tweek, he was soft and loving and worried and cried sometimes. He was everything to Tweek, he showed him everything, all the pale things under rocks no one else got to see. He needed and he wanted him and he adored him and Tweek Tweak couldn’t believe this. He couldn’t believe this boy, this strange quiet, beautiful, clever boy wanted him. Let him touch his soft tanned freckled skin, leave marks on him. Just let him love him, stroke his hair when he was upset and went to all of Tweek’s plays or jazz band concerts. He needed him and he needed him and they were together and would always be together.

“I got you Kitten.” His hands were on his hips now, pressing into the bones, the sharp little hip bones. His fingers which nimbly undid his button fly and pulled the zipper down on his skinny jeans. Little by little, tanned skin was on display in front of him, little by little Craig was naked and open and vulnerable in front of him. His legs spread wantonly and he was still needily rolling his hips up against Tweek. Tweek kissed down his skinny chest, down to a perfect little brown nipple, his mouth around it. He heard Craig whimper softly again and tug gently at his hair.

“You like that dont you baby?” He murmured, his tongue swirling around his nipple. Craig arched his back again, his big dark eyes falling closed. He kissed down to his flat little stomach, pressed a kiss to his sharp little hip bones. He left little marks there, little bruises. Those were his favourite. He liked to press his thumbs into them and hear Craig let out little moans. He felt those soft little hands tighten in his hair.

“Daddy please.” Craig’s voice was soft and whimpering. He was pressing his hips back up against him, needy and wanton. He was never patient, that was never one of his strong suits.

“Patience kitten.” He teased him as he kissed back up his body, his sharp angles and his soft skin. Up to his lips, which he captured in a needy, deep kiss. He felt Craig trying to pull his jeans down, he couldn’t wait anymore. He helped him, he tugged his jeans down one handed best he could. It was messy and he accidentally elbowed Craig in his bony side, earning a yelp and a revenge elbow. But when he looked at his face, he was smiling at him, his real imperfect little smile. Craig had a slight overbite and pointed canine teeth. The snaggle teeth of his youth corrected somewhat with years of painful braces. But it wasn’t perfect and he loved that even more if they were.

He always used too much lube, he always used gentle fingers to open him up, help take him apart gently. He would kiss his face and his shoulders and his throat as he murmured gentle words into his soft skin. The first push in always earned him a little whimper. His name on Craig’s lips, his name hanging in the space between them. Sometimes it was frantic and god, they both wanted to get off. 

Sometimes it was this. Gentle thrusting and a steady rhythm. Taking Craig apart on his dark green bed sheets in the little apartment they played house in. Hearing Craig’s soft whimpering and moans. The panting breaths and his name, his name in that soft nasal tone. Craig wrapping his long legs around his waist, he wanted to be closer, they always wanted to be closer. They wanted to be one, he could disappear into his soft tanned, freckled skin. His voice and his taste and his smell drove Tweek insane. He could smell him in the sheets when his parents insisted he come home for the night. Herby shampoo, apple fabric softener and shea butter soap. He wanted to bottle that smell and spray it over everything. How was he going to be when Craig went to Stanford? He made him needy and clinging and crazy. 

He felt himself seize up and it was the release. Groaning his baby’s name, he buried his face in the junction between Craig’s shoulder and throat. He reached a shaking hand down and used the same frantic rhythm he used when he wanted to get off fast. He felt something warm and wet on his stomach, Craig’s soft cry of his name. Watching himself leak down Craig’s tanned thigh, he marked him, he made that mess. His darling messy boy. He loved him, he adored him. He wanted to take care of him forever.

He should have gotten out of bed, they should have dumped the sheets in the little wicker basket and took a shower and made dinner. But he curled around Craig’s slim frame and buried his face in the back of his neck. He held him, because they didn’t have much time left, this was it, these next few weeks. There would be time to get out of bed, clean their sheets and take showers and make dinner. But in the glow of the golden hour, when everything looked a little bit shimmering magic, he just wanted to hold on to his baby for a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Day four here we go. This is set in the same universe as my creek fic the Drawing, its a sequel of sorts. Its very sweet and fluffy and I hope you enjoy.


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